Trapped in meThere's an African childTrapped in meThere's a little African child trapped in me.

All these rooms are cluttered with the spoils of my fameMy doors and windows shuttered I just can't keep out the rainThere's sunshine down in hellMy kitchen's filled with fliesI'm crying out for helpLike a little African child.

Trapped in meThere's an African childTrapped in meThere's a little African child trapped in me.

All these blowjobs in limousinesWhat do they mattersWhat do they meanTo the little African childTrapped in me.